


We Make Shades Of Purple Out Of Red And Blue

by I_cant_find_my_chopsticks



Category: Kpop - Fandom, Stray Kids (Band), skz - Fandom
Genre: 90s AU, Australia, Eventual Smut, M/M, Multi, Old Friends, Summer Love, Tooth Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_cant_find_my_chopsticks/pseuds/I_cant_find_my_chopsticks
Summary: Chan and Felix became friends soon after he moved to a new neighborhood. They bonded over Felix’s mom’s illness and Chan’s mom leaving him with his dad. Both boys scared and alone with only each other drift apart after Chan goes to a summer camp and meets new, more popular friends. In their senior year of high school an accident allows them to meet again.Chan-A heartbreaker of ambiguous sexuality with a soft interior.Felix- A boy too smart to get himself involved with the school’s bad boy.“We had been trying to be adults since we were thirteen, when we reached seventeen we realized nothing changed. Now we’re drunk and under a bridge with lips as warm as our cigarette ends and realize, age is just a number. Truth is you never grow old enough, just older. And if you’re lucky, maybe a little wiser”





	1. Chapter 1

Chan's mom shooed him outside while his parents finished unpacking from their move all the way from Melbourne to Sydney. He looked behind his house to see a large oak, there was a treehouse near the top of the tree. Chan ran up the ladder to see the elaborately built treehouse at the top, there was a large balcony-like area and a chair made of slightly faded orange plastic. He explored the interior of the wooden treehouse and saw the battery operated fairy lights were the only thing lighting up the space aside from the three windows of the East, West, and North of the house. 

He explored the house, the shelves lining the walls, the window seat on the North window. He opened each window to let fresh air replace the stale empty older, more stale air inside. The tree house had belonged to someone before, the space felt almost like a vacuum. The space seemed to want to be filled up. Chan felt uncomfortable looking at the empty room. He then had an idea.

He snuck back inside his house to grab his comic books, a few toy baskets, posters and extra blankets. He shoved them all in a book bag then rushed back up to the treehouse make it feel like his own.

He had filled the treehouse with toys and posters of his favorite superheroes, placed beanbags and extra pillows from the laundry room until the place felt lived in. Chan put up pictures that he had with his parents while hiking, back when it seemed like his mom cared. His first singing recitals, the school play from kindergarten. 

There were pictures of his old best friend, BamBam. He was a new neighbor from Thailand, no one could pronounce his name. Chan didn’t want to give up on him, when they first played action figures he would always say “BAM! BAM! BAM!” while punching the toy monsters; so he just called him that. The name stuck. In the pictures, were both smiling and playing with trucks, spraying each other with the garden hose, and Chan hugging BamBam tightly when he had to graduate to first grade. Chan had cried a lot that day because they would be in different classes.

After he finished decorating the treehouse, he ran into the house to show his mother and father his creation. 

“Momma, look at what I made!” He squealed, tugging at his mom’s sleeve. 

“One second Chris” she said forcing a smile, trying to speak to someone over the phone. His face fell as he mouthed a small “oh”. This has happened too often as of late. His father walked into the room carrying a box labeled Chris’s room, in his mother’s impeccable handwriting. She was the only one who called him by his real name. 

I gave to you so that’s what I’m calling you she would say. Chan’s dad would say Vera, honey he’s only a kid they pick nicknames all the time she would always respond with , that’s the name I gave him and that’s the name he will use Richard! Chan never understood why she was so adamant about his name, or everything that didn’t actually matter.

“What did you want to show her buddy?” His dad put down the box. He mouthed something to Chan’s mom but she was too busy to notice her husband. As he would later find out, she was never very interested in anything anyone wanted to say to her. 

“ITS A SURPRISE DADDY!!!” His eyes lit up again. “DO YOU WANNA SEE IT?” He said. 

“Sure thing bud! Lead the way” he swung Chan up onto his shoulders and let him point the way to the treehouse.

“SURPRISE!” he said excitedly, climbing down his dad’s back and up the ladder. He motioned for his dad to follow him. When his dad got up there, he was able to almost stand up all the way. He looked around at the pictures, comic books and posters. He even noticed the stars Chan had messily painted onto the ceiling with white glow in the dark paint from the arts and craft bin.

“You did such a good job little man! High five!” He high fived him and picked him up to spin around. Chan laughed until his dad put him down. His dad gave him a sad smile.

“You know your mom still loves you right?” Chan nodded his head quickly. “She’s just really busy with work right now okay? Things will be better soon, I promise” He patted Chan’s head. 

“It’s still only three. Do you want to go to the park and find someone to share this cool new house-“   
“SPACE STATION” Chan interrupted.  
“-Space station with?” Chan nodded, he had been looking forward to meeting some new friends here. 

“Alright buddy you can go to the park across the street just make sure to be back before it gets dark.” He handed Chan his red book bag and went inside with him to get his water bottle and a snack. 

“Thanks” He said before rushing off to the park.


	2. Chapter 2

Felix woke up that morning and went through his daily routine of making himself breakfast in the microwave. He had many options, oatmeal? cereal? the packets of frozen lasagna his grandmother had left last time she visited? He settled for some lucky charms. 

He ate while reading a book about monarch butterflies he checked out at the library the day before. He ate at the barstool next to the window in his kitchen. His dad’s beer bottles had been left on the window ledge casting ochre and emerald shadows on the countertop.

He almost looked for his dad but knew the probably wouldn’t be home for a while and if he was at home he wouldn’t want to see Felix anyway. 

He went into his parent’s room and looked at his sick mother, she had a cold. Or at least that’s what she said she had. Felix didn’t think colds could last this long but he believed her, it’s not like he had another option. She had been like this for about a year or two. He held onto vivid memories of her playing with him and and buying him toys even though his dad would say they couldn’t afford them. He didn’t know, however, if it weren’t for his mother’s medicine and his father’s alcoholism they would be pretty well off.

Felix shut the door behind him and walked to his room. He took off his ladybug print pajamas and put on some blue jeans with a praying mantis shirt his aunt gave him for his birthday last year. The praying mantis can turn its head 180 degrees, that’s half circle! He had been excited to receive it since he was obsessed with bugs. When his mom first got sick, he would bring her books from the library about insects and she would read them out loud to him to replace playing. Now that she was too sick to read for long he would sit next to her bed and read to her.

He had gotten used to doing things on his own. He packed a snack, lunch, some toys, and water in his navy blue and cream striped book bag. He left without asking, it’s not like they would notice that he left. 

This was almost the daily routine during the summer and weekends. His mom pretended she was fine, his dad pretended he didn’t exist; and he pretended his mom wasn’t dying, and his dad wasn’t a drunk. There are many things that Felix tried not to notice about his life, like how the stairs creaked and his door didn’t quite close properly; not even the scratches on the furniture that bore witness to his father’s fits of rage. Not that it was ever directed at him, at least not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so y’all don’t get confused in this story Chan has wavy bleach blond hair and Felix has orange hair because I’m the author and I can do whatever I want also they’re magically the same age and have their birthdays on the same month don’t be scared though THEY WONT STAY LITTLE FOR LONG!  
> mah babies are going to grow up ㅠoㅠ


	3. Chapter 3

He stepped out the door to walk ten minutes to the nearest park, leaving behind his problems. He was only seven years old. He got to the park and fed the fish that were in the pond before heading off to the large sandbox to build the Spider Empire. 

It was about eleven in the morning, he had woken up a bit late. Most parents wake up their kids to make sure they’re getting a healthy night's sleep. 

Felix didn’t really mind staying there for a couple of hours. This park usually stayed empty since most kids preferred to go to the one closer to the school. He was too afraid to go all the way there by himself, and it's not like other kids wanted to be friends with him. He wasn’t sure why, his dad never got drunk in public. He was a good kid. 

He never cried about his lack of friends. He used to, but his mom told him that he’s a good boy, it’s the other kid’s fault for not realizing that he’s so fun. Even if he looks grumpy or doesn’t really talk much. Before she got sick, Felix’s mom would always take him to zoos and wildlife sanctuaries, he didn’t get to hang out around many people his age but he didn’t mind. His social skills didn’t develop as they should have, but he did know a lot about insects. 

He played with his action figures for an hour but it seemed to fly by in a second. Felix had a bit of a habit of losing track of time.

A taller boy walked toward him, that was weird. No one ever comes to this park. Felix pretended not to see him, he wouldn’t want to play with him, he would probably wait for his other friends to show up. The boy walked closer. He sat down directly across from Felix. 

“How’s it going” he said. It took Felix a second to react, no one ever really talks to him outside of his parents and teachers only in dire emergencies. He mostly relied on pointing and nonverbal signs. He was what he had overheard his teachers say “selectively mute” since his mom got sick.

“I’m alright” he said in a small voice, hoping he would go away. He wasn’t quite ready to meet someone new. 

“I’m Chris but you can call me Chan!” The boy persisted, he held out his hand. Felix looked up at the boy, his silvery blond hair shining in the noon sun.

“I’m Lee Felix” he mumbled, taking Chan’s hand. But immediately going back to playing on his own.

“Felix huh? That’s a pretty cool name. Do you want to play with me?” He asked. Chan sat down cross legged across from him, he opened his Captain America book bag. Felix turned to face away from him. Chan didn’t want to give up on him. Felix just wanted him to go away.

Chan saw that Felix’s book bag was open. He saw a stuffed ladybug and some books about insects, then glanced at Felix playing with a large plastic spider and a human. The spider was eating the human. He had an idea. 

He emptied out his water bottle and dried it with his shirt. Grabbing some sand and twigs from the sandbox, he walked around the park to hunt for small insects. 

Felix stole a couple of glances toward the other boy not knowing what he could possibly be doing. After a couple of minutes and a few frustrated grunts, Chan had caught something.

“Ha! Gotcha!” He yelled at the cup. Felix looked at him, confused. Chan ran toward him. 

“Hey look at what I found!” He says trying to get Felix to look at him. The orange haired boy ignored him. He didn’t want to be rude but he was scared that Chan was making fun of his interest in insects. 

“Look! I caught a dragonfly!” He said, holding the water bottle about a foot from Felix. 

“It’s a damselfly” Felix muttered, only looking up briefly. 

“A what?” Chan asked. 

“A damselfly, you can tell because there is a gap between the eyes and their bodies are a lot thinner they also—“ he stopped himself. That’s the most he had talked in a year. Even in the rare occasions when he did talk, his voice would never raise over a whisper.

“Mhm” Chan prodded, trying to extend the conversation. He though maybe he had finally gotten to Felix a bit. 

“Never mind” he picked up the action figures again. 

Great he won’t talk to me again Chan thought. It was so frustrating trying to talk to him. He almost gave up, but he remembered BamBam. He remembered how good it felt to finally be able to communicate with someone and break down the wall between them. He remembered how glad BamBam was that he didn’t give up on talking to him. I have to keep trying. 

Chan opened his rocket-ship lunch box to reveal sun chips, a cheese stick, and a kool-aid packet for his water. 

Felix saw this and felt his stomach grumble. He put down his toys. He was pretty hungry, it had been three hours since he last ate. 

Chan saw him put down the toys and was happy to see the orange haired boy going through his book bag to get a lunch box. He took out a chocolate chip cookie and began to nibble at the sides. They sat across from each other in silence. Chan tried to introduce himself properly, like he learned at his last school.

“So, I’m new here. I just moved in to that house over there” he pointed at his cream colored house. The few plants at the front remained perfectly trimmed. Felix noticed how Chan let the cheese stick dangle from the corner of his almost like a cigarette. “ I just made a treehouse in my backyard and I really want to play with someone there. Even if you don’t like me—“ 

“I do” Felix said.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, it’s nice that you want to be my friend. Most people walk away after trying once but you haven’t stopped trying since you got here.” Felix explained. Finally making lasting eye contact. He was looking for only five seconds, but it was still a lot for him. 

“ I had a friend before and he . . .” Chan preceded to tell him the entire story of how he met BamBam and why he moved here instead of staying in Melbourne. Felix listened intently while eating the rest of his cookies. 

He noticed how Chan talked with his hands. How he would make different voices for the people he talked about. The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“So you want to go to my treehouse? You can ask your parents first, unless you don't want to then it’s okay” 

“I want to go” Chan started to gather his things, breaking the eye contact. If Chan’s eyes were lighting up before, they were full on strobing now. 

“Now?” Felix asked. 

“Oh, right. You might want to finish eating first.” Chan shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. Felix widened his eyes at this. 

“Well, maybe we can eat while we walk” Felix put his stuff away and pulled out a bag of fruit snacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all today was kinda wild but I have a chapter to post woooohooo I’ve been writing this fic for about a week and have like two more chapters that I need to post but I’ll space them out a bit so they’re not too sudden also what I meant is that I’ll post at least once a week but on a good week I may post up to one chapter a day also one dude today when I told him “oh I just posted a fic yesterday but I’ve been writing other fan fictions for about two years” and HE SAID TO ME “oh that’s cool, I write REAL fiction” and went on to talk about his OCs like okay Kyle you’re not special for writing your OCs with the personalities of an Adidas sandal


	4. Chapter 4

f e l i x 

It’s suffocating being at home all day and night. Instead of coming home from school after the science club I walked to the pier near my house. I stepped over the beams and into the small space within the rocks where me and Chan used to sit and make up stories. I haven’t thought about him for a while. I set my jacket on the ground and sat. 

I watched the birds dipping in and out of the water and coming out with fish in their beaks. I could see the sun, a thin light barely peeking over the horizon. I heard a rustle coming from the other side of the pier.

I saw someone’s red and white checkered vans landing on the rocks next to the pier. It was a blond boy wearing light jeans and a letterman’s jacket. He turned around, my heart stopped. 

I ignored him. He looked at me and flashed a smile I’ve seen countless times before. He set down his jacket and say next to me. He kept his eyes fixed on my face. I kept my eyes set straight toward the ocean. He smiled at me, three years too late. 

I don’t understand why he would be here, I feel kind of robbed. This was our place and when he left me, he left this place, he left the treehouse, and all our stories behind for his new life. Maybe I was being childish but this really hurt.

He seemed to be burning into my face with his eyes. He saw me blush slightly by kept looking anyway. I couldn’t bear it so I broke the silence. 

“What are you doing here” I said with the smallest hint of edge in my voice. 

“Running away” he finally looked away from me. 

“From what?” 

“Everything” He chuckled, writing something on the sand with his finger.

“Anyone would kill to be you”

“I would kill to be anyone else” He said this would an odd amount of certainty in his voice. We sat in silence as he looked at my face again. 

“I like your freckles” He moved closer to me. I turned to him again. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of running away from your problems?” This took him by surprise, he paused for a moment. 

“I wish I didn’t have to” He looked down at his phone. The light from his phone illuminated his face for a second as the screen displayed a text. 

From : Hanna G , baby please I can be different just stay with me. He frowned and shot back a text but I couldn’t see it, he was typing away from me. He fished in his jacket pocket for something. 

“You were never like that.” He turned toward me again, putting down his phone. 

“Huh?” He answered.

“When we were friends. You would always try to make other people feel good. What happened?”

“I got hurt” He pulled a a pack of Camels out of his pocket and lit one. He held one out to me but I shook my head. He smiled as if knowing what I would say before asking.

“That doesn’t give you an excuse you know” I said matter-of-factly. 

“Who made you the moral police?” He chuckled while blowing out a bit of smoke. 

“No one is required to stick around for your tragic backstory and built up angst.” He widened his eyes slightly at this and nodded his head. I decided to just tell him how I felt. To try to get some of that built up anger out. Three years later and with a whole lot more confidence. I continued.

“If you treat people like garbage they can think of you as a selfish jerk and nothing else. It’s no one’s obligation to analyze your actions and try justify them.” That was enough, that’s my best friend of my whole life except for about three years. Even if he hurt my feelings I don’t want to hurt his, I grew after we stopped talking, I don’t want him to think he was the only one that moved on.

“I think you’re right” He said immediately afterward. This caught me off guard. 

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah. I can almost remember why became friends in the first place. I wonder why we stopped” he said nonchalantly, as if it weren’t his fault that we grew apart. 

“You know why” I picked up my jacket and phone then stood up. 

“Wait! don’t leave” He grabbed my wrist. I pulled it away from him. “What the hell did I say” He muttered under his breath.

“Please come back. Same time tomorrow?” I didn’t answer. I walked away from him the same way he did to me on the first day of our freshman year to go sit with his new friends. 

I didn’t turn back, even when I reached my front door. I walked past the living room and the worn leather chair my dad had passed out on. Dropping my book bag on the floor, I changed into my pajamas. 

It seems like a clear before and after sort of division. My interests and personality are still similar but more muted. I became less outgoing, he became more. I started keeping a very tight circle of friends, his just got looser. 

I spotted one of my boxes in the closet labeled “summer 8th grade”. It was our Polaroid box from the summer before he changed. I opened the slowly fading cardboard box he had given me. I have him my heart and he gave a me a goddamn cardboard box. I was only fourteen, it’s not like I even knew what love was, until it wasn’t. 

The polaroids were nearly stacked in order of the months that they were taken. When he handed me the box the first time, they were all in disarray. 

‘These are a mess’  
‘How was I supposed to know you wanted them neat and pretty?’  
‘Its okay, I really like them’ 

I remembered holding that box close for days and looking over each picture to read what they said. It was funny i thought i could get emotional gratification from staring at his pictures, knowing he always saw me as a friend. My heart would warm up every time I read the captions written in the messy scrawl of a ballpoint pen. 

I wondered if he still write journals. His life was always 100% documented in black composition books. His messy thoughts filling up pages upon pages. He would also write letters to people then never send them, especially when he was upset.

One time in fourth grade his favorite show got cancelled, nothing big really, just a local channel type of thing. Live action and puppetry. He wrote a three page long letter to the broadcasting network and read it out to me.

As I turned over one of me he took while we were finishing homework I heard my phone make a loud PING noise. 

“Huh? Who would text me at this time?”

Dude . . . you broke up with Hannah? You mind if I “make her feel better” 

Followed by a wink emoji. 

That’s not my phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit y'all I've been busy did you see that comeback its so good im crying anyways its LATE i need to sleep and study my korean so fuuuuuuuun also this story will hurt y'all im just waiting


	5. Chapter 5

Why does he always have to leave me? I don’t even know what I did wrong.  
. . . . I wished I could tell him why I had to stop hanging out with him. But I knew he hated me too much to care. I didn’t blame him, I hated myself too.  
He probably thought I abandoned him. That I became too cool to care about a nerdy boy who loved books more than he loved anyone. A boy that was an idiot when he was having fun. A boy with freckles that dotted his face like crumbs on a picnic blanket. A boy with a star-shaped scar behind his ear from the time we fell asleep outside and a rock cut his skin. A boy that I loved.  
He was never supposed to know about the letters I kept for him. Hundreds and hundreds over the years all kept in a box in my closet. Apologies, love letters, letters to just tell him about my week, others to ask for advice. I knew he could never feel the same way I did. I felt content seeing him move on and find a new friend group. I really tried my best to date lots of girls to forget him.  
I always though liking boys was normal, and everyone just pretended they liked the girls. Soon I found out it was just me that liked boys. I tried to convince myself I liked girls more than I liked boys. I made up crushes to impress other guys but nothing ever felt as real as Felix. I know it’s silly to say that I was in love at thirteen but if that wasn’t love, I don’t know what is.  
I was in denial for a long time, by eighth grade I realized all my poems were about him. That’s when I decided to leave. I filled our summer with memories, after all, memories stay when people don’t.  
That summer I became more daring with my affection. Small touches here and there, all looking like accidents of course. I took a lot of pictures to give to him as a gift since I knew I couldn’t stay with him. It was too painful.  
Then the first day of school, excited to see me in first period, I wasn’t there. I had asked for a schedule change in the summer. Then during lunch, I had changed to a different lunch period. He waited for me by my locker, but I changed the locker number. He waited for me to walk home after school together, I walked past him. His face, full of hurt. My eyes, full of tears. I kept walking. I didn’t dare and turn around. If I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from running to him and kissing him.  
. . . . . . That could not happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see  
> I think I fell in love  
> I’ll start writing again  
> I’ll keep you updated on the mystery girl  
> The love of my life  
> (For real this time)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like this (I don’t know who “you guys” are quite yet)
> 
> I’ll update at least once every two weeks maybe onve a week if I have a lot of time who knows. I may go open my twentieth eye and write three chapters a day.
> 
> Also if there are any mistakes know English isn’t my first language so bear with me


End file.
